


Fulcrum!

by knight_bus_of_doom



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Asexual Raphael Santiago, F/M, Feelings, Getting Together, Multi, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_bus_of_doom/pseuds/knight_bus_of_doom
Summary: Simon has seen Izzy looking at Raphael and Raphael looking right back. Instead of being upset with his girlfriend, he thinks something lovely could come of this.Asexual Raphael, no smut, just lots of feelings!
Relationships: Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood/Raphael Santiago
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly I wrote this because I searched for Raphael/Simon/Izzy and all I got was smut. Or deep background of a Malec fic. So here, have 5k of them all having emotions!!
> 
> This fic basically adheres to show canon, except that Raphael doesn’t become a priest. He’s still human again, he just went a different way with his career, mostly because him becoming a priest means he couldn’t have a relationship/get married, and also because as an ace person I find it slightly stereotypical that the asexual character goes into the career of celibacy. They’re not the same thing, folks. Point is, just pretend that the conversation at the wedding didn’t happen!

One moment Simon was walking through Central Park with Izzy, their hands swinging between them, talking a mile a minute about… something. Enjoying the sunshine that at one point he’d thought he could never have again. And the next moment, he was pulling her onto a nearby bench. “Iz, we need to talk.”

“You’ve been talking for the past hour,” Izzy teased. When he turned red, she mellowed, tucking her hair behind her ear. A nervous gesture, Simon had learned. “Is this about whatever’s been bothering you for the past week and a half?”

“Uh… maybe?” Simon told her, going back over the past week. He hadn’t been thinking about this, really, it had sort of crept up on him, but maybe in the back of his mind… “It’s not something bad, or at least, I hope it isn’t, but I guess it could be bad if you look at it a certain way. I’m just not sure how you’re going to react, I mean, you might be all happy or you might laugh at me or you might call down the Avengers on me--”

“Simon,” Izzy interrupted.

God, he loved her. Really, really loved her. Only a few people in his life could tell the difference between his normal babbling and his nervous babbling, and she never interrupted the former, only the latter. “It’s Raphael,” he blurted.

Izzy paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side, a slight burst of panic in her eyes. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Simon assured her. “As far as I know,” he added, because with the former leader of the local vampire clan, you never really knew for sure.

“Okay. What about him?”

Was it his imagination, or did she look nervous? “Okay. So, remember the first time we all hung out together?”

“Voluntarily?”

Simon grinning slightly. “Yes, voluntarily. Although I’m not sure how voluntary it was after Raph figured out what movie we were watching.”

“I don’t know why he puts up with us, really,” Izzy added, and she was smiling, but there was a hint of… something, at the edge of it. “Simon, what is it?”

“Okay, so, I remember being really worried, because I know all of that blood-yin fen-trading-addiction stuff happened between you two, and it was messy and chaotic. So I watched you two, you know, just to make sure everything was okay, because I wanted it to be. I wanted you two to like each other, because you’re--you know, you, I love you, and Raph is--is important to me too, so it was important. So I watched, and it was a little awkward, but mostly it was fun, and you two ganged up on me, which was honestly more happy-making than it should have been. Bonding, you know? You two were bonding over my ridiculousness, which, always happy to be of service. And then we kept hanging out, and it was habit, I guess, and I kept watching you two--”

“Simon,” Izzy said hastily, but he was on a roll, and he just needed to get this out.

“--and I saw how you look at him sometimes, and how he looks at you.”

“Oh, shit, Simon, I--”

“No, Izzy, it’s--”

“No, it’s not! It’s--” Izzy cut herself off, standing up and pacing slightly in front of him. “I swear I don’t mean to, and I don’t--I love you, Si, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Simon said, and the smile on his face was only slightly due to the coincidental Star Wars reference.

“It’s--you’re seeing history, that’s all. We have history, Raphael and I, and I guess I’ve never really explained it.”

“Do you want to?” Simon had more he needed to say, but maybe Izzy did too. “I don’t mind, really I don’t.”

“No,” Izzy huffed, and then looked at him and sat down again. “But I will.”

“You don’t--”

Izzy waved a well-manicured hand. “Yes, I do, because… because I do. Okay.” She straightened her shoulders, shaking her hair back slightly, like she was preparing for battle. “Raphael and I were addicted to… to each other, I suppose, for a while. Him to my blood, me to his venom. But that’s not all that it was.”

Simon just nodded, trying to make himself look supportive. He probably just looked constipated.

“It was… we were… almost dating, I think?” Izzy shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. But we spent time together that we didn’t have to. We met at the DuMort, and he made me food, and we’d just talk for hours. We didn’t really… we didn’t acknowledge it. We spoke about it once.” Her bright red lips thinned slightly. “Basically the equivalent of, ‘we had something, but I don’t know what it was’.”

Simon nodded. “Do you like him?” he asked, and then realized how that sounded, how accusatory that sounded. “That would be fine,” he added quickly, but oh, that sounded _worse_.

Izzy laughed, high and stressed. “No!” she said, immediately. “I love you, Simon, I don’t…”

And here was the crux, the point of this whole talk, and Simon could feel his fangs wanting to come out alongside the anxiety, but he held them back. “They’re not mutually exclusive, you know.”

Izzy narrowed her eyes at him, sussing him out, but apparently gave up after a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Simon took a breath, “That you can love me and like Raphael. At the same time. And that would be alright with me, because--” he cut himself off, taking an unnecessary breath. “Because I think I love you and like him?”

And that floored Izzy, clearly and obviously. “What?” she managed, her mouth gaping.

“Uh… I like him?” Simon said again. He really felt like that was a clear statement, and even though he itched to keep talking, he kept himself silent. Time to let her process, and then possibly dump him. But he thought that maybe… maybe there was a chance for something, here.

“Simon,” Izzy said, flabbergasted, “I didn’t… you… what?” She shook her head, trying again. “Okay. Okay, so I told you my story, tell me yours.”

Simon bit his lip. He didn’t have to focus on not breaking the skin anymore. That was nice. “You know I’m pansexual.”

“Yes.”

“Raphael is kind of the reason I know that.”

Izzy’s eyes widened. “You two--”

“No, no. Raph doesn’t… no. We never even talked about it.”

“Then what do you mean, he’s the reason you know?”

“Because I have eyes?” Simon said, and Izzy laughed. “Plus, my hormones were a little nutso, back when I first turned, and Raphael was around all the time, and did you know that fangs are a bit like dicks?”

That had Izzy laughing harder, her eyes watering, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Please, stop, and never ever make that comparison to me ever again. It’s already going to haunt me every time we make out.”

Simon was blushing, he knew he was. “Right. Point taken. I mean that… okay, fledglings tend to have trouble with their fangs dropping unannounced. The scent of blood, violence in general, strong emotions, and, uh, arousal.”

Izzy grinned at him. “So your fangs kept dropping around Raphael, which led to a newbie vampire sexuality crisis.”

“Not in quite that order, but, yes.”

“Okay.” Izzy seemed to remember what they were really talking about, here. “Okay. So you’re attracted to him.”

“I mean. Yes?” Simon shrugged. “Not, like, unavoidably. Like, I’m not Alec, I can speak when he walks into a room, and all that.”

“Simon, if you stopped talking when someone walked into a room, trust me. Everyone would notice.”

“ _You_ used to make me stutter like a fool,” Simon said, hoping she didn’t bring up the fact that he still did, sometimes. She was just so gorgeous.

“That’s still talking,” Izzy pointed out, patting him on the cheek. “It was cute, mundane.”

Simon scoffed at the pet name that still hadn’t gone away, despite its inaccuracy.

“So… you’re attracted to him, but not unavoidably.”

“Yeah. I just… I just care about him. A lot. And I want to protect him from things? And basically,” Simon spread his hands out, “feelings.”

Izzy nods. “Feelings.”

“Uh-huh.”

Izzy hummed for a moment, cocking her head, and then held out her hand, which Simon took automatically. “Okay. We have a couple of options.”

* * * * * *

Raphael had moved out of the DuMort almost immediately after his release from (read: escape and overthrow of) the Gard. He’d moved into a lovely one-bedroom apartment, far below what he could technically afford. But it had a huge balcony, and a great view of the sunrise, and that was all he needed.

He hadn’t quite decided what he wanted to do with his now-mortal life, other than live it, and he’d spent the first few weeks of his newfound daylight freedom just wandering New York alone, seeing all the places lit up by the sun, eating in the closest restaurant when he realized he was hungry. Going back to his empty apartment--furnished by Magnus, who had all but insisted--and eating again, and then falling asleep on the bed.

Approximately 18 days into this routine, and Raphael was definitely not counting, he had awoken around noon to someone knocking adamantly on his door. He opened it to see Simon standing there, a huge smile splitting his face, holding a grocery bag in his hands and carrying an overstuffed backpack.

“Simon?” he had asked.

“I’m here to teach you how to be a human,” Simon had said, walking on into the apartment. “Where the hell is your TV?”

They had spent the afternoon shopping for a TV, which Magnus had apparently deemed unnecessary. They had bought much more than that, mostly because Simon had categorized all of the items as ‘needed to be a human’. Raphael frankly thought that nerf guns should not fall under that category, but Simon had been insistent.

Then, after returning to Raphael’s apartment laden down with their spoils, Simon had revealed his supplies from that morning. “Every kind of candy I could find, and several varieties of chips,” he explained, pulling each item from the bag. “So that you can find out what you like best, since I know junk food was probably way different in the… 50s?” He had scrunched up his face, and Raphael had studiously ignored that it was cute. “I’m an accounting major, I really should be better at math.” Then he had pulled over the backpack. “And finally! A crash course in pop culture. I know you know some of it, but if you’re going to interact with humans on a daily basis, you really should understand a basic Friends reference. It’s just essential.”

Raphael had absolutely not smiled at that.

And after that, Simon had been over once a week, usually with some new category of things Raphael needed to test out. And oh, he grumbled and sneered his way through it, but the look on Simon’s face when he saw a box of Butterfingers in the pantry told him that he wasn’t being as stealthy as he thought.

About a month in, Simon had brought Isabelle with him. Raphael knew they were together, of course--Simon really never stopped talking about her. Every new category of thing Simon brought him, he made sure to mention what Isabelle’s preference was as well. And Simon had warned him about it that day, texting him a brutally short ‘Iz wants to come w me--tht ok?’

‘Yes’, Raphael had replied, and then proceeded to silently and stoically freak out until they arrived. 

It hadn’t been nearly as bad as he thought. Simon had brought supplies, as always, and it was nice to be able to actually share snacks with Isabelle. It had been awkward at first--the last conversation they’d really had was at the soup kitchen, with her about to arrest him--but Simon’s constant talking put anyone at ease, and he quickly found himself on Isabelle’s side in some pointless argument about Ewoks, of all things.

And just like that, they were friends. Friends who came over once a week, friends who checked in on him with texts and calls, friends who sometimes made him blush when they smiled. You know. Friends.

* * * *

‘Iz and I r coming over, tht ok?’ read the text from Simon. ‘Hey, Simon and I want to talk to you about something,’ read Isabelle’s. Raphael promptly decided that absolutely nothing good was about to happen, and contemplated whether they would sic shadowhunters on him if he pretended not to live there anymore. They never wanted to talk about something, and they had already had their movie night two days ago. A flash of panic went through Raphael. Was something wrong? He wasn’t very dialed into the Shadow World anymore, since he wasn’t a part of it, so maybe there was something going on that he hadn’t heard about. But they’d just call him if they needed him, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t send cryptic texts and then take _more than thirty minutes_ to arrive. Unless someone had died, or something. 

Raphael scoffed, and then straightened abruptly. Was that what had happened?

He was pulled from his panic spiral by a sharp knock on the door, and he hurried to open it. “Is everyone alright?” he asked them, speaking so fast the words were a little slurred, his tongue still a bit unused to not having to work around fangs.

“Yes?” Simon asked, looking confused. “What did you text him?” he asked Isabelle, who pulled out her phone to check.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay, no, I see how that could have been concerning.”

Simon looked over her shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Iz. That sounds like someone’s dead.”

Raphael made a sound in the back of his throat, and both their eyes shot up to his.

“No one is dead,” Simon rushed to say. “Everyone’s fine, we just wanted to talk to you. About something.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes in frustration. His vampiric senses were gone, and along with them, a lot of insight into what people were feeling. Was Simon… nervous? Excited? He was _something_. Isabelle mostly looked… nauseated. “Come in,” he said as he opened the door wider, because what else was there to say?

“Thanks,” Simon said.

Raphael’s eyes widened. Never once had Simon thanked him for holding a door open. He glanced at Isabelle, who was looking at her boyfriend fondly, although she still looked on edge. Raphael led the way to the couch, sitting down at one end and angling toward them. Both of them stayed standing, but now that he was down, he wasn’t going to get up. What the hell was wrong?

“I--” Simon said, at the same time as Isabelle opened her mouth, and they glanced at each other.

“You started this,” Isabelle told him, smirking.

“You started… this part of this!” Simon hissed, gesturing at Raphael.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Fine. But we’re both going to have to speak, Simon.”

Simon made a squeaking noise that might have meant ‘I know’, and then he sat down hard in a beanbag chair--that he had purchased, of course--and let Isabelle have the floor.

Isabelle cleared her throat. “Raphael,” she said, formally, and then winced, and then cleared her throat again. “Okay. So--so Simon, uh, he--”

“Oh G--hell, this is painful,” Simon groaned from the beanbag chair, pulling himself to his feet. “Sit _down_ Izzy.”

Isabelle sank down onto the couch, and Raphael noted that she was as far away from him as she could get. Were they… were they here to tell him they couldn’t be friends anymore? That didn’t really make sense, since they had seemed perfectly happy to be here two days ago.

Simon was currently breathing deeply, and Raphael almost laughed at that. Trust Simon to be more human than he was. Raphael caught himself gasping for a badly needed breath on a daily basis, having forgotten.

“Okay,” Simon said finally. “So I’ve been noticing some stuff over the past few... well, months, really. And at first I thought I was making things up, because I know that I do that, I mean, I kind of invented a relationship with Clary, and I definitely didn’t read Camille right, and--”

“Simon,” Raphael growled, although he’d noticed that his voice sounded far less intimidating as a human. Damn it all.

“Right. I’ve been noticing the way that Isabelle looks at you sometimes, and I think I’ve been noticing the way you look back at her.”

Raphael swung his eyes to Isabelle, who had pulled her legs up to her chest and was blushing. But under his gaze, she very visibly took a breath and unwound, straightening her spine and looking right back at him. Raphael very much wished he still couldn’t blush, and looked back at Simon, who was looking between them with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, like that,” he said. “So I asked her if she liked you. You know, like-liked. That sounds dumb, but that’s what I asked her, so…”

Raphael’s muscles had frozen him in place. Otherwise, he was sure he’d be in Timbuktu right now. Simon had noticed him staring at Isabelle. He had tried not to, and mostly he was successful, but sometimes she would laugh and he would think of tamales and long talks and that damned red couch and then he’d realize he was staring. God, he’d ruined this, ruined these friendships that he depended on, these people that he liked being around. These important people.

Wait.

Isabelle looked at him too?

Wait.

Simon was smiling?

He tuned back into the conversation.

“--tell it chronologically! I’ll get to me too,” Simon was saying.

“Oh, no, I think I’ll tell the you part, since you make it sound like I’m some blushing maiden in need of--”

“I just said that I asked you if you liked him! I didn’t even get to the part where you did,” Simon said.

Isabelle froze.

Simon also froze. “...okay, so I guess now I got there.”

“Simon,” Isabelle whined, and then braced herself and turned toward Raphael. “I told Simon how we were before. How it was more than the yin fen, or the blood, but then it just got all screwed up. And he asked if I still felt like that about you, the more of it all, and I said yes. Or, I said maybe?”

“A maybe tending toward a yes,” Simon suggested, sitting carefully on the floor in front of them.

Raphael considered both of them, endlessly confused. “Why are you here?” he asked finally.

Simon and Isabelle looked at each other a moment. “To tell you this?” Simon asked him, obviously just as confused.

“But why are you _here_?” Raphael insisted. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, furious at me for, for looking at, for--”

“Ha!” Simon exclaimed, pointing a finger at Isabelle. “I told you there was looking.”

“Don’t _laugh_ at me, baby,” Raphael said, the nickname for the newest clan vampire coming out without his consent.

Simon looked embarrassed. “I’m not. I promise, I’m not. G--” Simon closed his eyes in consternation. “Raziel, Raph. I’m not laughing at you.”

Raphael couldn’t help but crack a grin at the vampire, the daylighter, using such a shadowhunter word, but he sobered quickly. “Then why are you here?”

“Well, that’s only half of it,” Isabelle said, and when he looked over at her, she was looking between him and Simon with a smile. “You see, after Simon finished asking me horribly embarrassing questions about looks and history and tamales--” she shot a grin at Raphael, who really wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. “--Simon taught me about fangs.”

“Isabelle!” Simon shouted from the floor, and then he was tackling her to the back of the couch, holding his girlfriend down with a hand over your mouth. “Don’t you dare.”

“Mwll ifm wann,” Isabelle said.

“What?” Simon asked with a grin, still covering her mouth. “Iz!” he screeched after a moment, wiping his hands on his pants. Apparently, Isabelle had licked him.

Raphael, considering the scene in front of him, wondered if perhaps he was hallucinating.

“I will if I want to,” Isabelle said more clearly, a wicked smile on her face.

Simon looked at her for a moment, realizing he couldn’t stop her, and then turned and fell to his knees, faceplanting into the couch cushions. “I’m staying here while you do it,” he informed her.

“That’s fine,” she said, patting him on the head. “So, do you know that Simon is pansexual?”

Raphael nodded, glancing down at the mop of brown curls inches from his knee. “He informed the entire clan at a gathering.”

Isabelle laughed. “That sounds about right. Anyway, he found out he was pansexual because his fangs kept dropping when you walked in the room.”

Simon groaned, loudly, and raised a hand to flip Isabelle off, mumbling something into the couch that could have been ‘that’s not what happened’.

Raphael immediately ran through all of his memories of Simon’s first few months at the DuMort. Yes, Simon’s fangs had dropped randomly a lot, more than other fledglings, but there was no hard and fast rule, really. Did that mean--had he-- “I didn’t notice,” he said slowly, looking back at the back of Simon’s head.

Simon raised his head to look at him, although Raphael noticed he was staring at the wall behind him. “Yeah, well, you weren’t in the room for all the times I had better control over them. Lily noticed. And explained. And laughed, a lot.”

Raphael smiled slightly at the mention of the new leader of the clan.

“Okay, your turn not to laugh at me,” Simon grumbled.

“I’m not,” Raphael said, surprised, and locked eyes with Simon, immediately feeling himself flush.

“Beautiful,” Isabelle said, clapping her hands together. Raphael noted that she seemed much more comfortable, now. He really envied her, as he still wasn’t clear on why this was happening. So Isabelle… liked him, maybe, tending toward a yes, and Simon was attracted to him. Why were they--

“I don’t do sex,” he said, quickly and sharply, and barely fought the urge to stand up and walk away.

“We know,” Isabelle and Simon said in unison.

Raphael stared at him. There was that answer out the window. “You don’t want--want to, uh--”

“Sleep with you?” Isabelle provided.

“Yes,” Raphael managed to say.

“I mean… no, because you don’t want that,” Isabelle said.

Raphael looked at them both. “This is not how this conversation normally goes.”

“This conversation?” Simon asked, his voice high-pitched. “What conversation do you think we’re having?”

Raphael, unable to handle eye contact with either of them anymore, covered his face with his hands. “The threesome conversation.”

Simon chuckled, and Raphael lowered his hands enough to glare at him.

“Sorry, it’s just the idea that you’ve had enough threesome conversations to know how they normally go,” Simon said. “Sorry. Not laughing. Just… anxiety, nerves, general wanting-to-jump-out-a-window-ness. Or turn invisible! Hey, invisibility would be great right now, because--”

“This isn’t a sex talk,” Isabelle said, having apparently decided to put Simon out of his jittery suffering. “This is a feelings talk.”

“A--” Raphael caught himself from just repeating her words and stared at her, and then Simon, and then his hands resting in his laps, and then Isabelle again. “What?”

“I have feelings,” Isabelle stated, running a hand over the bracelet/whip on her wrist. Raphael wondered if she was feeling flight-or-fight impulses right now, like he was. “For you.” She took in a deep breath and looked at Simon encouragingly.

Simon ran a hand through his hair, looking back at his girlfriend, and then turned to Raphael. “I have feelings for you,” he blurted, louder than normal conversation required.

Isabelle winced a little, probably in sympathy, and then turned to Raphael.

Raphael looked back at her, processing rapidly. She had feelings, and Simon had feelings, for him. They had--there were--he blinked, hoping that would make his brain work.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Isabelle relented, although she looked disappointed. “And we can leave, if you want, and never mention this again.”

“Never, never ever,” Simon contributed.

“Or you can say you need time to think, and we can mention this again later.”

Having to have this conversation _again_ was what spurred Raphael to speech. He faced Isabelle, because she was easier. Hell, he’d basically told her this before, in fewer words. “I have feelings for you.”

Isabelle _beamed_ , her whole face lighting up, and she tipped toward him slightly before catching herself on the back of the couch and sitting back. Her eyes flickered to Simon, probably unintentionally, but it had Raphael steeling himself.

He turned toward Simon and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Understandably, because he really had no idea what to say.

“You don’t have to,” Simon said hurriedly, and then he was standing up again, towering over both Raphael and Isabelle, fidgeting in place. “You don’t have to, with the feelings, and all the--it can just be Isabelle. I’m okay with that, you two having the feelings, and Isabelle being the, the middle bit, the… what is that called?”

“Simon,” Isabelle said quietly.

Simon turned to her, kneeling down. “No, I’m being completely honest. Really, I am. If you want to date both of us, that’s fine. If you want to just date him--” Simon cut himself off, huffing out a breath. “I’ll be sad, obviously, but I’d understand. I mean, you know I’d understand.”

“Simon,” Isabelle breathed, putting a hand on his cheek. “We talked about this. I love you, okay? I’m not going to--I love you.” She leaned in, kissing him briefly, and then leaned back. “Plus, you started talking before he could speak.”

Simon choked a laugh and nodded, leaning back on his heels, and looking back over at Raphael, although he couldn’t keep eye contact for more than a second.

Raphael stared at him, at this boy who had basically upended his entire life. “I don’t feel the same way you do,” he said slowly.

Simon nodded once, jerkily, and went to stand up, maybe to leave, and Raphael felt his chest tighten a little. “I’m just not--” he forced out the words, wanting Simon to stay and listen. “--attracted to you. The same way. I don’t do that, feel that.”

“Oh,” Simon said, more of a rush of air than a word. “I know. I mean, I figured, I mean--”

He was still standing, still looking at the ground, but he wasn’t moving toward the door. Raphael counted that as a success.

Isabelle poked Simon in the ribs. “Tell him the other bits.”

“What other bits?”

“About the feelings, and the protecting? The importance bit was especially lovely.”

“Iz,” Simon whined, but turned toward Raphael obediently, raising his eyes to stare firmly at Raphael’s nose. “I just really want to protect you. Take care of you. That’s why with the snacks and the movies and the shopping. I’m worried about you.” Simon took a deep breath and met Raphael’s eyes fully. “Plus, I like it when you call me baby probably more than I should, and I really like your face, when it does things.”

“When it does things?” Raphael stuttered out.

“Like smiles? Or laughs. Or you do this thing, when you’re pretending to be annoyed by me, where you try not to smile, so you’re frowning but you have dimples.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, he’s a little bit smitten,” Isabelle offered.

“He’s a little bit going to kick you,” Simon told her, but his eyes stayed on Raphael.

“Huh,” Raphael said again.

“He might a little bit kick you too,” Simon told him, and he sounded so _nervous_ , and Raphael really wished he could blush, because it would be so cute--

And that was when Raphael knew what to say. “I have feelings for you,” he said, calmly, slowly. Maybe at some point he would try to explain the tangled mess of emotions in his throat, but he thought this would do, for now.

There was a pregnant silence.

Then, Isabelle screeched, grabbing Simon’s hand and beaming at both of them. Simon, for his part, mostly looked like a fish, mouth open, staring at Raphael in complete dubiety.

“I mean it,” Raphael added after a moment, trying to jog him into some sort of acknowledgement.

“Okay,” Simon said, voice small, and let himself be pulled by Isabelle onto the couch.

Her aim was off--or maybe it wasn’t--because Simon ended up sprawled over both of them, his head in Raphael’s lap. And maybe it was the change in angle, or maybe it was the fact that this was possible the fewest words Simon had ever said in a conversation, but Raphael smiled down at him, letting it light up his whole face. The face that Simon said he liked.

“Okay,” Isabelle said. “Alright, that’s enough of that for now. We can figure everything else out later. Right now, movies. Snacks. Raph, do you have popcorn?”

Raphael blinked, his eyes finding Izzy, Simon still in his lap. “Pantry,” he told her, and when he got a blinding smile in return, he just gave up looking for solid footing and let himself float.

* * * * *

Several snack-filled minutes later, they all sat down to watch some movie Raphael had never heard of. They started out in their normal positions, Isabelle and Simon cuddled at one end and Raphael on the other, but after they spent more time glancing at each other than at the film on the screen, Raphael gave up.

“Okay, this seating arrangement needs an update,” he said lightly, holding out a hand. 

Isabelle, who was closer to him, took it, and he stood, tugging her to her feet and turning them around before sitting down again, placing himself in between them.

“Okay, you’re a genius,” Isabelle said. “Can I lean on you?”

“Can I hold your hand?” Simon piped up, not to be outdone.

Raphael nodded, just generally, although he felt his shoulders tense at the questions and had to force them back down.

Isabelle carefully leaned her head on his shoulder, settling in and pulling a nearby blanket over them. Simon grabbed the other end, claiming it for himself, and held out a hand to Raphael, a clear question in his eyes.

Raphael hesitated a moment and then took it, putting their palms together, starting a little bit at how cold Simon was. 

Simon grinned at him but adjusted their hands, interlocking their fingers and placing their hands on his knees as he curled into a ball.

Raphael felt himself settling, surrounded on all sides. He could feel reality trying to butt in, trying to fill his head with questions and plans and clarifications, but he shut it out of his head firmly. He would deal with it when his attention wasn’t being taken up by these two people, these two very important people. He closed his eyes, not even bothering to pay attention to the movie, and let his feelings warm him just as much as the blanket.

“Fulcrum!” Simon almost shouted, causing Isabelle and Raphael to start, and the blanket to fall on the floor.

“ _What_?!” Isabelle asked him, leaning around Raphael to shoot her boyfriend a look of fond disdain.

“Uh,” Simon said eloquently, looking abashed. “The middle part, between two ends. From before? It’s a fulcrum.”

“That’s lovely, babe,” Isabelle said, and Raphael chuckled. “But I guess we don’t really need that word, do we? More like… triangle.”

Raphael felt a smile on his face, and knew it was echoed on Simon’s, who reached down to wrap the blanket around them again. Isabelle reached for Raphael’s other hand, and he relished the feeling of being in the middle.


	2. Epilogue: I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue in three parts, from each point of view of our three lovebirds. A first, for each of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to cardiac_logic for giving me the push to write this epilogue! Yes, I do have two other WIPs. Yes, I did ignore them both to write this. Yes, I'm now back on my Shadowhunters bullshit. Sorry?

* * * Three months later * * *

“Simon, just get _back_ ,” Clary yelled, brandishing her kindjals against the unknown monsters in front of them.

“I will not,” he objected. “I’m not leaving you to face them alone, Fray, obviously, and it’s not like I still don’t have fangs, and--”

Clary let out a noise of frustration. “ _Fine_ , but please don’t die, Si,” she said, and then whirled into motion.

Simon made a noise but didn’t respond, instead choosing to face the… demon? Monster? Thing? that was coming at him. He’d say demon, based solely on appearance, but when he did things like that Magnus tended to start ranting about speciesism.

Magnus wasn’t here, though, which was sort of the problem. He and Clary had been grabbing coffee--well, as much as he could grab coffee nowadays--and had turned a corner, and then boom. Monsters. She’d called for support, of course, but Simon knew there was a Downworlder Council meeting right now. Actually, he probably knew the schedule better than anyone, considering that _both_ his partners attended those meetings. Izzy, as a representative of the Shadowhunters--Alec only attended in emergencies, too busy running the rest of the Institute--and Raph as the rather unique representative of humans. Well, he was more like an advisor that most of them could get along with.

Regardless, there was a meeting right now, which meant that Magnus, Izzy, Raph, and Lily were all holed up somewhere.That was almost half their closest allies. If that had been on purpose, they really had bigger problems, and oh, Simon hated having bigger problems. Give him all the smallish problems, please and thank you.

“Did you text Izzy, too?” he shouted to Clary, dodging around the… thing… in front of him and breaking its neck from behind. Ha, suck it. He laughed at his own internal pun as he spun around to find the next creature.

“General shadowhunter alert,” Clary yelled back. “She should get it, as long as her phone is on.”

Simon really thought they should widen the ‘shadowhunter alert’ to ‘anyone who cares about a shadowhunter alert’, but that was a conversation for when he wasn’t one good slice away from death.

Just then, as if the universe was a fan of comedic timing (and it probably was, considering his damn un-life), a portal opened at the end of the alley and Magnus, Izzy, and Raph stumbled out.

Simon spun around slightly to nod at them before turning to face the battle again, and felt more than heard as all of them took in the scene and rushed into action.

“I’m going to the Institute for backup,” Magnus said.

“I didn’t know Alec’s name was ‘backup’ now,” Simon teased, darting in to aim a kick at the head of the monster in front of them. Seriously, what _were_ these things? “Seriously, what _are_ these things?” he asked Izzy as she ran up beside him and pulled her whip free from her wrist.

“Don’t ask me, I’m just the girl who kills ‘em,” she said with a grin, giving him a once-over. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Simon told her, and then repeated it for Raphael, who had moved toward both of them as well. He focused on the monster, but titled his head to let them know he was still paying attention. He waited for the inevitable ‘back up and let us handle this’. Well, maybe not ‘us’, because Raphael was basically just a human with an unnatural level of hand-to-hand experience, but…

“Alright. Triangle formation, moving in?” Izzy said, moving to his right.

Before Simon could answer, he felt Raphael moving to his left, both of them with their backs to him, and then Izzy started side-stepping toward more of the creatures, toward Clary.

Simon really wanted to turn around and gape at her. Sure, they’d been in fights together before. That was most of their quality time, for a while. But they’d never really been in a fight together where they didn’t all _need_ to be fighting, where they weren’t hopelessly outnumbered so that every warm--or not-so-warm--body made a difference. 

They kept fighting, all three of them, and Simon quickly fell into a rhythm. Step forward, attack a weird monster thingy, step back into the triangle. Repeat as needed until creatures are goo.

After another minute, another portal opened, and shadowhunters poured out. Jace at the front, and then Alec at the back with Magnus, and so much black and shiny metal between them that Simon knew the goo-monsters were toast. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t relax, fighting the one in front of him until an arrow appeared through its throat and it dropped like a sack of...well… goo. Simon nodded at Alec, who still had his bow raised, and Alec nodded back before swiveling to take out another creature.

Another minute or so and all the creatures were on the ground, except for one that was being trussed up by shadowhunters. Simon would protest, except that interrogation and research had gotten a lot less cringe-worthy since the Gard, and they _had_ been very intent on killing him. Taking a breath that he really didn’t need, he turned around to Izzy and Raph. Izzy was grinning, her usual post-battle expression, and Raphael was closely inspecting his suit.

Simon waited for the concern, or maybe even the questions, but Izzy just grinned and grabbed his hand. “Just a coffee with Clary, huh?”

Simon smiled slowly at her. “I like my coffee with blood and also weird monster violence, what can I say?”

She laughed. “You’ll have to teach me that kicking move--it wasn’t normal form, but it worked for you.”

“Raph taught me everything I know,” Simon said, playing up the drama, but it was true.

“I didn’t teach you _that_ ,” Raphael said, frowning, but Simon spoke ‘Raphael’, and he was about two jokes from rolling his eyes fondly and grinning. “I don’t know what you were doing during combat training, but it wasn’t watching your lines.”

“Hey, combat training was hard for me,” Simon whined. “I was newly aware of my pansexuality and you kept telling me I was doing a good job and smiling. Which I wasn’t, by the way.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “I’ve learned that fledglings respond best to positive reinforcements.”

“It was weird,” Simon told Izzy, grabbing Raphael’s hand idly as he spoke. “Most of the time, no emotions.” He dropped his smile, wiping a hand down over his face. “And then during training, boom! Compliments, smiling. Positivity.” He ran his hand back up again, pasting a manic smile on his face, before going back to a neutral expression. “Can you blame me for my super-gay whiplash?”

Izzy smiled, shaking her head. “Well, whatever you did or didn’t learn, you can hold your own, Lewis.”

Simon looked at her, the words hitting him weirdly. “Yeah?”

Izzy smiled, narrowing her eyes slightly in confusion. “Yes? I mean, I’ve got your back, obviously. But you’ve got mine, too.”

“Even if your kicks never look correct,” Raphael put in, but he was smiling softly.

“Wow, I love you,” Simon blurted, his eyes still on Raphael. And then he got the truly wonderful experience of watching Raphael blush, notice he was blushing, and really hate that he was blushing.

“Because I said your kicks were horrible?” Raphael managed, lips twitching into a smile, face still flaming.

“Because you’re cute when you blush,” Simon told him, physically unable to not draw attention to it, even as he knew he probably wouldn’t look any less red if he was a human. This was the first time he’d said the l-word to Raph, after all, and he hadn’t really meant to, but both of them just...

Raphael went a deeper color red and frowned at him. _”Dios, Simon--”_

“I meant--I meant both of you, though,” Simon said, because he needed to say. He glanced at Izzy, who had a hideously wide smile on her face as she looked between them and then at him. “For trusting me, I guess? For coming in here and having my back but just letting me--knowing that I can fight. And fighting with me. I like the triangle, it’s like, metaphorical and shit.”

Izzy laughed. “Also a basic battle tactic, but I’m with you.”

Simon grinned at her. “I mean it. I love you,” he turned to Raphael, “and I love you,” he squeezed both their hands, “but mostly I love us.”

Izzy smiled at him again, leaning up to kiss him, and then both of them turned to Raph as one and kissed his cheeks, a move they’d perfected over the last few months.

Raphael’s blush deepened even further.

* * * Two months later * * *

It was Christmas Eve, and Raphael kind of hated Christmas, as a general rule. When he was human, the first time, he’d loved the holiday. Gifts, joy, family, but also the tradition of it all. Midnight mass, falling asleep on someone’s shoulder on the way home, only to wake up early to open gifts. Hymns, songs, prayer.

Then he was turned into a vampire, and couldn’t even say ‘God’ without choking.

The first Christmas as a vampire, it had barely registered, deep as he was in self-loathing and violence. The second Christmas, he’d stabilized, embraced his new life as much as possible. But when he heard bells ringing on Christmas Eve, from churches all around thanks to his improved hearing, he’d had to shut himself in a stone coffin and put hands over his ears.

And that had been when his family was still alive.

Later on, he observed Christmas in his own way. Skulking outside a church during mass, listening to others singing hymns and carols and pretending like he could join in without wincing. Letting himself spend a few days wallowing, remembering. Christmas was for his family, even when only Rosa was left. Even when that meant that Christmas was a mourning period.

But now. Now, he was human again. Now, he could go in a church, and he had, spending so much time in the nearby Catholic church after he was cured that one of the ministers had asked if he needed help. He’d almost laughed in his face. He’d never needed help more, or less, in his life.

What would Christmas be like, now? Should he keep his tradition of remembering his family? Should he make a new tradition? And then, of course, there was Simon and Isabelle. It had taken him a while to really… to believe it, to believe them. Well, and that wasn’t true. He _believed_ them, when they said they had feelings for him. He just couldn’t quite believe that they had made this choice, the choice to bring him into their relationship. There had been so many conversations, so much negotiating. So much _talking_. And every time some new issue or question was brought up, Raphael expected one of them to say, “Enough. This is too hard.”

But they hadn’t. And Raphael had tried not to… cling, for the lack of a better word, but they were quickly becoming the closest thing to family he’d had in…

The clan had been family, in their own way. They _had_. It was almost necessary, because what else could they be, when all of them had lost their lives in a moment? When they had no one else to turn to? But it had been a place of violence, too, and of desperation, and of politics.

So no, he hadn’t really had family, other than Rosa, for years. Decades. But he was trying not to push, because while he was rather alone, Isabelle and Simon were decidedly not. Simon’s family, in the know, now, had celebrated Hanukkah a few weeks ago. Raphael had been invited, Isabelle too, but he’d made excuses. He knew how the Lewis family felt about him, the man who’d basically made their child into a vampire. Isabelle had gone, and come back beaming and talking about latkes and chocolate and Lewis family traditions.

Anyway. Raphael shook himself slightly, leaning back on the couch until his face was parallel to the ceiling. He would go to Midnight Mass, because he’d been longing for too long to attend, and then maybe he’d call Simon and Isabelle in the morning and see if they wanted to celebrate, somehow.

His phone buzzed. ‘We have a surprise!’ said the text message, from Isabelle to both him and Simon.

‘Surprise?’ he texted back, not concerned. Simon had a surprise about once a week, and Isabelle joined in, sometimes. Recently, Simon had been getting Raphael in on surprises for Isabelle, and it was remarkably lovely to see her face when they pulled it off. Raphael was coming around to the idea of surprises.

‘Open the door,’ said the next text message, and Raphael shook his head and got up, walking to let them in. They didn’t usually show up announced, and he was a bit perturbed--did they assume he didn’t have plans on Christmas?

“Hi,” Simon said, smiling at him from the doorway, hand wrapped around Isabelle’s.

“Hello,” Raphael said, frowning a little. Was Simon… nervous?

“Hi,” Isabelle said, dryly, completing the cycle, and then dropped Simon’s hand to give Raphael a hug, pressing a lipsticked kiss against his cheek as she walked around him and collapsed on the couch. “It’s _cold_ ,” she complained. “Close the door and spit it out, babe.”

Simon did as she said, although he shot her a look. “Okay, so, I figured you were probably going to Midnight Mass, right? Which means you’ll be leaving in about thirty minutes, so I thought we were timing it right, that you’d be back from anything else but wouldn’t have left yet.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “How did you know where I was going tonight?”

Simon raised an eyebrow right back at him and reached out, pulling the crucifix out from under Raphael’s shirt, careful to only touch the chain. “Because I’ve met you, Raph.”

Raphael found himself smiling softly. “Yes, alright. I’m headed out soon. I--” he hesitated, turning so he could see both of them. “I’d invite you, both of you, but--”

“Church bad for vamp, yeah,” Simon interrupted. “I know. Thus, the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“I found an outdoor mass,” Isabelle said, now wrapped up in the blanket he kept on the arm of the couch, only her face visible. “It’s in a park, not far from here. There was something about candles causing a fire a few years ago, so they’ve moved it outside. It’s not on consecrated ground or anything, so Simon can go.”

“We don’t have to go,” Simon said, quieter now. “I don’t know if this is something you want to do on your own, but unless you discovered an outdoor mass in the past, I thought you probably hadn’t been to one on Christmas in… a while.”

A while. That was an understatement. Raphael looked at Simon, at how nervous he seemed, and at Isabelle, smiling at him from the couch, and it occurred to him just how much he wanted both of them to go with him. “It’s not just about the consecrated ground,” he warned Simon.

“I know.”

“He’s been _practicing_ ,” Isabelle teased from the couch. “God this, God that, every other word for weeks whenever we’re together. So he can say it without wincing.”

“I was halfway there already,” Simon complained. “I just wanted to… I wanted to be ready, just in case, you know, you wanted me there. Which again, you don’t have to want. Me there.”

“I do,” Raphael blurted, and made himself take a breath. “I want both of you there.”

Simon grinned, moving forward to hug Raphael tightly and press their cheeks together. “Good,” he whispered, pulling back. “Alright, then we have to go.”

“Go? How far away is it?”

“It’s like two blocks,” Isabelle complained. “Simon, it’s _cold_.”

“But we need to get good seats!”

“There might not even be _chairs_! And you have super-vampire-senses!”

“Yeah, but you don’t.”

“I’ll use an iratze.”

“Stop. Rewind. Play. Yeah, but Raph doesn’t.”

Raphael watched the two of them bicker, Isabelle climbing off the couch and tightening her coat and scarf even as she argued, and warmth swelled inside him. They’d been planning this for weeks.

They were, in fact, heinously early, but Simon ignored Isabelle’s jibes and grabbed them all candles and lyric packets from a bin, babbling about the best seats in the house as they walked around the park. Finally, Raphael pulled them toward a large tree and leaned against it, pulling them both into his body. For warmth.

And also because group hugs were one of his favorite things about this relationship. He was a former vampire who liked cuddling, sue him.

Simon settled immediately, falling into silence and closing his eyes. Isabelle carefully arranged their belongings behind their feet, so they wouldn’t be stolen, and then leaned her head on Raphael’s shoulder.

“Alright, tell me about mass,” Simon said, his words warm with tiredness.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Raphael warned him. “Didn’t you learn all this when you were doing research?”

“‘M not gonna fall asleep,” Simon complained, patting Raphael on the shoulder blindly. “You’re just warm. And yeah, I did, but I like to hear you talk.”

“His voice really is lovely, isn’t it?” Isabelle said. “We should get him to tell us stories more often.”

“Yeah, but then we’d just fall asleep.”

“I’m not telling you anything right now if you’re going to fall asleep,” Raphael told them both, although the image in his head of carrying either of them home was… good. That was a good image.

“I’m awake,” Simon stated, although the fact that he burrowed his head into Raphael’s coat a bit more did nothing to back up his statement.

“Alright,” Raphael sighed. “First there’s the processional…”

Simon did manage to stay awake the whole time, but only because he had to start focusing when people started speaking. Raphael watched him, seeing how he pushed through the slight pain of the word ‘God’, and watched Isabelle sing along with the hymns, stumbling over the melody for the first verse and then proudly taking up the harmony on the second, and Dios, he loved them so much.

He’d thought it before, in passing, in wonder, in speculation, but…

Raphael was still in his head a bit as they left, putting the candles and lyrics back, taking each other’s hands. They walked in silence, and after a minute or so Raphael noticed, looking between them. Were they asleep on their feet? Silence was not something that usually occurred during their time together.

But no, they were both just looking back at him, smiling softly, and it occurred to him that they were being quiet _for_ him. Letting him enjoy this time, however he wanted to. Letting him process being able to attend mass on Christmas Eve again.

He tugged on their hands lightly, pulling them both to a stop. As soon as they both looked at him, he spoke, sighing out the words. “I love you.”

Both of them smiled--Isabelle all at once, Simon slowly--and then he was wrapped up in both of them, a bundle of joy on a New York sidewalk at two in the morning. 

“I love you,” he said, again, once for each of them, once into each of their hair, and squeezed them tighter.

* * * Two months later * * *

Izzy was exhausted, frankly. Alec had been summoned to Idris unexpectedly, so she and Jace had been placed in charge of the Institute, and even though they’d meant to split responsibilities down the middle, Jace had ended up with all the in-the-moment stuff--leading combat training, managing patrols, being on-call for emergencies. Izzy, on the other hand, had managed all her usual autopsy and weapons responsibilities and all of Alec’s usual paperwork on top of it. Her papercuts had papercuts. All she wanted to do was pass out, but tonight was date night, and the only thing better than passing out in her own bed was passing out in bed between Raphael and Simon.

It was their bed, sort of. Simon had moved in with Raphael a month ago, but although Izzy had gotten the same invitation, she hadn’t wanted to. Well, that was a lie--she’d _wanted_ to. But the conversation had been motivated by Simon needing a new place to live, somewhere that wasn’t his parent’s house, and even though she knew they hadn’t meant it that way, she’d felt like an afterthought. And she had a home, at the Institute, with her siblings and Clary and her job, and didn’t it just make more sense for her to live there?

Dragging herself halfway across the city wasn’t fun, though, and Izzy had found herself almost begging off of date night tonight more than once rather than face the spring chill as tired as she was.

She allowed herself another sigh and then fixed a smile on her face and knocked on the door.

Raphael answered it almost immediately, and after one look at her, he frowned and opened his arms. “Cariño, come here.”

Her breath hitched, and she fell into his arms, letting her face fall. She forgot, sometimes, that she didn’t have to keep brave faces on around them. It helped that she couldn’t seem to hide anything from either Raphael or Simon, although she still found herself smiling.

Another body covered hers from behind, and Simon sighed. “Hi, babe.”

“Hi,” Izzy said, smiling into Raphael’s shirt. “This is much better.”

“Ah, we haven’t even started yet,” Simon said, pulling back. “Tonight is your date night.”

“What?” Izzy asked, moving out of Raphael’s arms regretfully.

“You’ve had an exhausting week,” Raphael said quietly. “So we decided you needed a date night.”

“Every week is date night,” Izzy said, absent-minded, as she took in the actual apartment for the first time. The table was set, candles burning, a large pan of macaroni and cheese in the middle. “Is that the four-cheese kind?”

“Five,” Simon said, grinning. “And we got your favorite wine, plus the baclava from the place on… Seventh? Eighth?”

Izzy dropped her purse on the floor, her shoulders dropping a good inch. “That sounds amazing.”

“Good,” Raphael said, nodding, and prodded her until she moved toward the table, taking her coat off as she walked. 

“How did you know Alec was gone this week?” she asked, taking a seat. She wasn’t banned from telling them things, but it was habit at this point not to tell people when the head of the Institute was gone. She hadn’t seen them much this week, anyway.

“I didn’t,” Simon said, sitting at the place without a plate. There was a very clearly labeled bottle of blood on the table, right next to the red wine. They hadn’t made that mistake more than once. “That explains Clary, too, she’s been spamming my phone all week. Guessing Jace also took over a bunch of stuff?”

“Yeah.” Izzy hesitated. “Then how did you know I had an exhausting week?”

Raphael raised an eyebrow, sitting down. “We know you, and we pay attention.”

“You’ve been using more periods in your texts,” Simon said, pouring himself some blood and then picking up the wine to give her a generous glass. “And when I offered to completely reorganize the weapons room for you, there wasn’t even a death threat in response.”

“You’re quieter when you’re stressed,” Raphael said. “And I do know what your handwriting looks like, you know. I know you filled out all the shadowhunter accounts for the Council meeting on Wednesday.”

Izzy looked between them. She hadn’t spoken with either of them more than twice this week, had barely kept up with her text messages. “And so you just… knew?”

“We pay attention,” Raphael repeated, taking her hand on top of the table. “Do you want to tell us about it?”

Izzy let all her breath out, and to her shock, felt tears coming to her eyes. She blinked them away, but smiled at her partners. “No,” she said, honestly. “It was just a lot of work. Thank you, for this.”

Simon grinned. “If you don’t think I get something from smelling this mac ‘n’ cheese, you’re wrong.”

Izzy laughed, reaching for the spoon to serve herself some food, and then brought her wine glass to her lips for a sip. “Raziel, that’s good,” she remarked.

Simon gestured to Raphael, who blushed. “I may have interrogated an employee to find the brand you like,” he admitted. “I could only remember the picture on the bottle. She was very confused.”

“I love you,” she told him, smiling over at Simon so he’d know it was a shared sentiment. She’d already told them both, months ago, but sometimes she just… felt it so much. They knew her, they paid attention, so much that they could tell how she was feeling from punctuation and handwriting. It was such a big difference, being noticed, and the more she felt noticed, the more she realized that she’d felt kind of like a background character in the drama of life--a very fashionable, badass background character, but still. Being a main character, feeling this important, this noticed, was intoxicating.

They both smiled at her, and then Simon was off, taking the reins of conversation as he often did. She squeezed Raphael’s hand as they both listened and commented and joined in.

Finally, both she and Raphael had eaten far too much pasta, and the blood and wine bottles were empty. “Alright, next,” Simon said. “We have, for you to choose from: a sad movie, a happy movie, your favorite type of bath bomb, or this massage oil that I grabbed when I bought the bath bomb that looked really good.”

“Massage oil?”

“Yup!” Simon waggled his eyebrows wildly, and then his face smoothed out into a soft smile. “I just thought you might be tense--it’s not a sex thing. I mean, unless you wanted it to be, in which case I’ll save it for our next sex date.”

Izzy rolled her eyes, grinning. “Why all the options?”

Raphael shrugged, which was a bit of an odd gesture for him. She looked at him, and he blushed slightly. “We wanted you to be comfortable here, but we didn’t know how comfortable you were… comfortable with.” He winced at his own sentence.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we got the bath bomb first, and then we were worried that you wouldn’t really want to take a bath here, so we got a bunch of other options because we kept working each other up and up.” Simon grinned wryly. 

Izzy considered that for a moment. They thought she wasn’t comfortable here? She was probably more comfortable here than at the Institute, and that was only a little bit because she couldn’t be woken by her siblings or baby shadowhunters in the middle of the night here. She’d taken showers and baths here, she’d spent the night more than once. Why wouldn’t she be comfortable here?

“The bath bomb sounds fantastic,” Izzy said, rather than verbalize all that. “And then the happy movie?”

Simon nodded, smiling, and got up to clear the table while she took the little boutique shopping bag from Raphael and went to the bathroom, grabbing towels and some of the pajamas she kept here on the way, turning on the hot water and letting steam fill the room. She undressed, sank into the scented, silky water, and let herself really think.

By the time she was done with her bath, wrapped up in flannel pajamas and more relaxed than she’d been in two weeks, she had come to a conclusion and steeled herself. She walked out, plopped herself on the end of the couch, and fixed both Simon and Raphael with a look.

“Hi?” Simon asked, looking a little scared. “Wrong type of bath bomb?”

She found herself hesitating, and bit her lip, trying to firm up her resolve.

“Demon in the bath?” Simon kept guessing. “Your stele got wet and now it’s ruined? Uhhh… I’m out, I think.”

“Isabelle?” Raphael asked, tone worried.

“Can I still move in?” she blurted, all in a rush, and then closed her eyes, and then forced herself to open them again. She was Isabelle Lightwood, for Raziel’s sake. She was fierce, and badass, and what if they didn’t really want her to?

“Umm, yes?” Simon said. “Wait, that wasn’t a question. Yes. Yes, very much yes, please move in. Do you want to move in?”

Raphael sent him a fond, exasperated look. “We’d love for you to move in,” he told Izzy. “Did you… why?”

“Because I’m comfortable here,” she said, keeping it simple. She’d thought about more than that, in the bath, but she could go into detail later. “I think I’d really like living here. It wouldn’t be simple, though.”

“No, yeah, we can… we’ll compromise,” Simon said, his voice excited now. “We did it before, we can do it again. Do you… did you want to share the big room with us? Or we could give you the… uh…” He glanced at Raphael.

“The sex room,” Raphael supplied, a corner of his mouth turning up in amusement. “You know that I’m aware that it’s the sex room, right?”

Simon huffed a laugh. “Yes. Sorry. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with a room in your house.”

“The point of the sex room is so I’m not,” Raphael reminded him. “As long as the room I sleep in and the room that sex happens in are not the same place, that is what makes me comfortable.”

“Yes, okay, I know.” Simon leaned into him a bit, and then turned to Izzy. “So we can… I don’t know, make something else the sex room. Your room at the Institute, or something. If you want your own room.”

Izzy grinned at him and shook her head. “I’d love to share your room, and keep the sex room right where it is.” It was the truth--there was something kind of amazing about having sex with Simon, and then taking a shower together, and then crawling into bed with Raphael to spoon all night. Something domestic, although most people probably wouldn’t think so, in making sure everyone had exactly what they were comfortable with.

“We should get a bigger bed again,” Raphael said.

“We already have a king bed,” Izzy pointed out. “And I already stay over in it. We fit. We’d fit in a full bed, honestly, with how clingy both of you are.”

Raphael blushed. “Well… yes, alright.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m just excited.”

“You said ‘we already have a bed’,” Simon said, a grin lighting up his face. “As in, ‘this bed that is all of ours’. ‘Our bed’. That’s… that’s a great phrase, really, Iz.”

She shook her head, grinning. “Okay. Movie time, and we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m really not going to be able to focus on the movie now.”

“You never focus during movies anyway,” Raphael pointed out, sliding down the couch with Simon in tow until they were all cuddled together, the way they’d been at the very start of this relationship.

Izzy sighed in contentment, wrapping an arm around Raphael’s waist and putting her head on his shoulder. “I love you both.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you three. Get it, three?”

“Dios, Simon, I swear--”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it's not symmetrical because this isn't Izzy's first "I love you" but I really wanted to put a few months in between each bit and it doesn't make sense for her to wait that long to say it. Plus: living together!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you have ideas for an epilogue--I'm down for writing more feelings!


End file.
